


Sapphire

by Witete



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Character Death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, enjoy the p a i n, this is like laughter/hubris but without the happy ending, with very little comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9679571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witete/pseuds/Witete
Summary: She gets punished for a crime she didn't even commit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Request for waldorkler on tumblr  
> Sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy!

_“Peek-a-boo!”_

She felt her breath catch in her throat and the world at the edges of her eyes went a sickly yellow. Her brother tensed beside her, his eyes fixated at the ground a few hundred feet below him, wide and blown, infused with terror.

They didn’t have time to exchange glances before she felt her feet leave the ground, a brighter wash of yellow practically blinding her. She let out an involuntary shriek as control left her limbs and she was left to scrabble futilely at the air in her hands. Dipper let out an identical howl of fear and horror as he rose next to her, kicking his thin legs and struggling against the nonphysical hold. Small, pitiful sounds of anguish escaped his lips as the pair was pulled closer to the beast that hovered menacingly at their backs.

Time seemed to slow for the small girl as gravity reversed its hold on her and her brother. For a moment, the screams of the civilians below morphed into something scarier, more familiar.

_Mabel, please!_

_Listen to your head!_

She wished there was a red button in her grasp. She wished that there was the harsh whirr of the portal humming behind her. She wished that her decision of trust would make the world right again.

But it didn’t. It couldn’t.

So she was left to scramble in the air, unable to keep the gaze of her uncle; unable to hold on to the button that would keep the growling monster awake- because none of it was there. All she had was a panicking brother at her side and a different kind of growling monster behind her, burning away at the skin on her back.

“Thought you could escape me, huh kiddos?” the monster clucked behind them. Mabel nearly cried out again as a mass pressed against her back, shivers riding up her spine and making her nauseous. Dipper grasped at the sleeve of her sweater as a thumb hooked around his left side, pressing him closer to his sister. His breathing came out in gasps as the large digit captured him and his sister, trapping them in a cage of black claws.

Mabel struggled fruitlessly, trying to pry Bill’s massive fingers from her body, but it was no use; his grip was like iron. Dipper quivered next to her, a good two seconds from breaking.

Suddenly, their bodies turned away from the opening Mabel had made and they begin to make their way back the way they came. The girl continued to struggle, kicking and pulling and wriggling and trying her absolute hardest to make the task at least just a little bit more painful for the yellow monster.

“Oh, you’re quite the fighter, aren’t ya?” Bill complemented mockingly, shaking his fist. Both twins whimpered in fear as they’re jostled. “Afraid there isn’t much that’s gonna get you, sweetheart.”

Mabel swallowed and delivered an extra hard punch to Bill’s knuckle. _Don’t call me that,_ she thought on impulse, remembering too late that the yellow monster could read her mind. If Bill noticed or not he didn’t say anything, he just continued down the ominous hallway in a similar manner as if he was strolling down the street.

A few moments of silent fighting pass before Dipper lifted his head beside Mabel, his eyes narrowed dangerously. Mabel regarded her brother cautiously, watching his brow furrow with fury. She reeled back slightly as he whipped his head around to face Bill head on, his jaw set. Mabel had never seen Dipper this infuriated before and it scared her; she tried to speak, to draw him down, but he beat her to it.

“What do you plan to do us then, huh?” Dipper challenged, his voice quaking ever so slightly. “Killing us won’t get you anything!”

Bill released a high-pitched chuckle and Mabel can feel Dipper shrink beside her, Bill’s eye burning a hole into their backs. “It’s called incentive, _Mason,_ ” Bill said, sneering. “If your uncle is as stupid as you –which I know he is- I’ll get what I want.”

“He won’t tell you anything!” Dipper bit, albeit with a little lest gusto than before.

Bill didn’t say anything for a few tantalizing moments before he scoffed. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!”

_“Are you sure?”_

Bill’s growl sent shivers down Mabel’s spine and she shrank closer to herself, the harsh question making tears prick at her eyes. The response made Dipper shiver beside his sister and his fight left him, leaving him to shut his eyes tightly in submission and defeat.

Bill scoffed, his grip tightening on the children. “S’what I thought.”

Mabel shuddered as the hold tightened, her heart clenching with the words and the guilt that swarmed her stomach. She couldn’t bear to see anybody suffer for what she believed was her fault. If she hadn’t been so stupid to give the Rift to Bill, none of this madness would’ve happened.

Bill must have sensed her inner turmoil because he chuckled, the sound dark and menacing. _All your fault,_ it seemed to scream, making tears well in her eyes.

They neared another doorway and Mabel could faintly see the blue glow of a cage, two forms standing within its barriers.

“Alright, Ford,” Bill declared, ducking through the door and raising the children in his fist. A new wave of terror washed over the pair as they peered down upon their uncles, their faces pale with terror.

“I’ve got the kids!” Bill sang, his eye dangerously close to the children.

Mabel barely heard the demon’s declarations over the pounding inside her head. The edges of her vision darkened and all she could see were her uncles. Their eyes were alight with fear and terror, their hands grasping the blue bars of the cage.

She felt Dipper struggling beside her, but her body couldn’t move to help him. It was no use. There was no time left.

Unless…

“Bill,” she said softly, the sound so soft and still she wasn’t even sure she had said anything at all. The tirade that Bill was on stumbled to a halt and she could almost feel the shock rolling off his stupid triangle body. She found it kind of funny, even though she was terrified beyond belief, that she had stumped that monster. She even gave a half-hearted giggle before it tapered into a sob.

“Please don’t. Don’t hurt them, please.”

Now it was Bill’s turn to laugh. “Or what, Shooting Star? You gonna blind me with glitter? Or, no, better yet, knit me a sweater?” He paused only to laugh again. He turned his fist to where the kids were facing him and he looked straight at Mabel, his glare taunting.

“There’s nothing you have that I want, girlie; well, maybe your death, but that only depends on if Sixer wants to keep his secrets to himself or not.”

Mabel kept her gaze on him, but she did shrink back slightly. “Grunkle Ford won’t tell you anything!”

Bill gave a dramatic groan. “Ugh, you’re sounding like your brother now. Seriously, Shooting Star, do you really expect good ol’ Sixer to not fall at my feet once this is all said and done?”

“It won’t work!”

“Why not?”

Mabel froze at the way the words came from the demon. It wasn’t quite a question; it was more condescending than that- like a challenge.

Bill’s eye crinkled with amusement at the shocked look the young girl was sporting. Suddenly, his fist shifted and all but two fingers opened. Dipper gave a gasp as he plummeted to the floor, landing on his side with a painful thump. Their uncles gasped and said a few words before presumably staring back up at Mabel, who was still trapped in Bill’s iron hold.

“Why won’t it work Mabel?” Bill sneered, bringing her even closer to his eye. She could see her reflection inside his pupil like a black mirror. He then flung his unoccupied arm to the side, making Mabel jolt with shock. “Why don’t you tell the whole world why it won’t work? Why don’t you tell good ol’ Sixer why _your death_ wouldn’t have him crawling at my feet? Why don’t you enlighten me, and the rest of your pitiful family, as to why you’re simply not worth a pinch of _anything_?”

Mabel heard her uncles cursing and screaming at the triangle from behind her, but it was only a buzz of sound above the sobs that wracked her chest. The seconds that passed were tantalizing as Bill stared her down. She realized much too late that Bill actually wanted her to say it out loud, even though he knew well and good as to why.

“Because it was my fault,” she muttered pitifully, hanging her head.

“Oh, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over your uncles!” Bill exclaimed, cupping a hand over the area where his ear would theoretically be. “Seriously, their father must not have punished them hard enough for having tongues like that!”

Mabel glared at him and surprisingly managed to keep it before restating herself, only to taper off miserably at the end.

Bill shook his fist, jostling her around. More tears sprung into her eyes.

“So we can all hear you!” he screamed, his eye blooming red with anger and elation.

“I caused this!” Mabel screamed at his eye. “I gave you the Rift! I let you into our world!”

“’Atta girl,” Bill praised mockingly, turning his gaze to stare past her. “You hear that, Fordsie? Your precious little niece held the door for me. Ha! She is more useful than you ever were!”

“Put her down this instant, you fucking piece of garbage scrap!” Mabel heard her Grunkle Ford scream from behind her back. Something was off with his voice, something she couldn’t quite place, but she did not dwell on that for long.

“Whatever you wish, buddy boy,” Bill said before his fist opened for a second time. Mabel barely felt herself hit the ground; she’s so exhausted and pained. She managed to sit up and she felt Dipper’s hand come into contact with her shoulder. It’s distant. Everything is muddled. She felt empty. Time was up.

“See, the thing is, sweetheart,” Bill drawled on smoothly, lowering his form closer to the ground. “No matter what, Sixer will give in; the difference is, once this barrier is broken, I’ll make sure to tell the whole universe to thank you for helping out a good fella like me!”

Before Mabel can even stammer out a response, Bill leaned in close to her. Dipper gasped beside her.

“Can’t help but notice that you’ve skipped out on most of Weirdmageddon. Such a shame, really,” Bill shrugged as if he didn’t care, but the malicious glint in his eye told otherwise. “Thankfully, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, identical to the ones I used on Sixer during his wonderful stay!”

Bill’s eye glowed dangerously and Mabel felt all the wind rush out of her. “This is my way of saying _thank you!”_

It was not something he could forget. No amount of blue fire could erase the images that felt permanently tattooed behind his eyelids.

Not even listening to the pitiful screams of the creature that had done it to his little girl could deter his brain from the far more daunting screams that had echoed throughout the throne room just minutes before.

Energy hummed through the small, quickly deteriorating room, the yellow shards flickering and shimmering green in the violent blue flames. Stan stood there, panting, his eyes burning hot with tears, and his fists clenched at his sides painfully (he couldn’t actually feel anything, given that it was the mindscape, but he swore he could feel his nails digging painfully into his palms).

Seconds passed and the old man continued to watch passively as the flames crawled closer, popping and hissing. He couldn’t think- couldn’t feel; he could only remember, ironically enough.

The way the demon’s eye turned a blood red and the way his voice lowered what had to be seven octaves, staring down upon the shivering girl in the bloodstained sweater. The way that Mabel went rigid under his gaze and stared up at him, almost pleadingly, before she released an ear-piercing shriek.

It hadn’t been an excited scream of play or joy like Stan was so used to hearing over the summer. Sure, she and her brother had met their fair share of monsters during the summer which kept them up at night sometimes, but this scream was different. This scream was absolutely tortured, beyond anything he had experienced or heard in his entire life. And that was saying a lot: Stan had been on the bad end of deals before or had seen others suffer the same fate, some of them ending up looking sightlessly up at the sky, their necks practically glowing red under a lone streetlamp.

No, this scream was the sound Stan would imagine that Death itself would create. Stan remembered Ford shuddering and screaming beside him, trying to get the triangle to stop as the young girl’s braces melted inside her mouth. Stan remembers screaming as well, breaking character and not caring in the least if it meant saving the young girl’s life. Unfortunately, the triangle did not stop his tirade: her small hand turned to stone and promptly shattered into tiny pieces, white noise of screams of pain and agony and pleading melding into one, horrid dream.

 _Memory,_ he corrected himself, his knees buckling at the thought. _It happened._

He wasn’t sure if he was thankful for the blue flames or not. He didn’t want to remember that, oh lord, no. But he didn’t want to forget Ford, or Dipper, or _her._ Maybe, he hoped fruitlessly, that by some grace of heaven or whatever the hell was up there, he would wake up, lost, alone and unable to remember, but he would see her face; she would smile at him with her beautiful teeth and grasp his arm with her hands, her delicate fingers playing with the fabric of his brother’s trench coat.

But as his vision went white at the edges and the blue fire started to make his skin itch, Stan realized that it was truly useless. Since when had anyone like that been gracious to him? He decided a long time ago that there was no god- there was nobody bigger looking out for him. He only had himself and he supposed Ford now, given that he would probably end up senile for the rest of his life.

 _No,_ he thought quietly, the air around him becoming white noise. He shut his eyes, unable to feel the tears trailing his cheeks anymore. Hell, he couldn’t even see darkness- it was all just a blinding white light now.

It was useless.

There was no coming back.

It hurt for him to think, but he was glad he was forgetting.

Forgetting what? Well, now he didn’t know, but he couldn’t help but feel blissful in that fact-

But it hurt all the same.

Today was his birthday.

Sorry, no, it was _their_ birthday.

He released a pained groan into his pillow at the thoughts. He was too tired for tears anymore; he was too tired for feeling anything else than the gaping hole in his chest. He was just tired.

Stan had come in about an hour ago, sitting on the edge of his bed, trying to get him to get up and go downstairs and eat something. Dipper hadn’t said much; he woefully looked up at his uncle’s face, distantly happy that most of his memories had returned.

The evening that Weirdmageddon had ended, Dipper was sitting on the floor in the corner of the kitchen, generally being miserable as he flipped through the beloved scrapbook that his sister had left behind. His cries of anguish had brought both of his uncles into the room, Ford’s eyes instantly softening at the sight of his distressed nephew. As Ford sat down next to the small child, Stan stood, rubbing his arm, clearly woeful about the kid’s behavior, but not knowing how to help him.

“What is that?” Stan had asked instead, gesturing to the book in Dipper’s hands. Dipper shook his head and buried his face into the pages, his breaths shuddering. Ford looked up at his brother with sullen eyes, rubbing comforting circles on the child’s back.

“A scrapbook that his sister made,” Ford said lowly, gesturing for Stan to come closer. The man nodded once and stepped to his brother’s side, looking back to try and peek at the tear-stained pages.

That’s when something clicked inside Stan’s brain and the memories started flooding in. It was a hard process for everyone, explaining Stan’s life to him, but together, Ford and Dipper did it in a week’s time.

But that left Dipper feeling alone as Ford and Stan began to rekindle their relationship, knowing pitifully that he had lost something that could never return.

He retreated to his room for most of the day for the past few days, even his adulated Grunkle Ford unable to coax him out. And now, not even hardheaded Stanley Pines had the strength to push Dipper out of bed, in fear of the small boy shattering before his very eyes.

After a few minutes of coaxing, Stan convinced Dipper to come downstairs at least in the next two hours to eat and socialize at least just a little bit. Both uncles and the extended family were very concerned. They were understanding, but concerned.

Dipper had agreed in as few words as possible and Stan left him alone, sensing that Dipper wanted to be alone.

Since that moment, he had been laying in his bed, the sheets gathered at his ankles and his pillow stained with tears below his head. But also since that moment, little odd things had been occurring. For one, the window between the two beds had creaked open, letting the warm summer sunlight seep into the dreary room. Dipper didn’t bat an eye towards it, but he didn’t deny that it improved his mood just a tiny bit, listening to the cheerful birdsong and feeling the warm sun on his cheeks.

Another odd thing that occurred happened after he had woken up from a nap that couldn’t have been longer than twenty minutes. He woke up groggily, but warm and comfortable. It didn’t take him too long to realize that he was surrounded by stuffed animals. Cuddled into his neck was a grey walrus, its beady eyes soft in the kind light.

Dipper narrowed his eyes and sat up in his bed, blinking away the tears of sleep (and probably angst) from his eyes and peered around the now crowded bed. He stifled a gasp, however, when his eyes trailed to the foot of his bed, where many of the animals seemed to be glowing a gentle blue.

A figure stood at the bed, the form translucent and sapphire blue. He could see the details of a face among the mist as it stared at him, unmoving.

It took too long for Dipper to realize that it was his own reflection staring back at him.

No-

His _sister’s._

He clamped a hand on his mouth and stifled a sob, his other hand reaching for her longingly. She smiled faintly and humoured him by sticking her hand out as well. When they brushed fingertips, Dipper swore he could feel her, skin and flesh and bone, alive and well with a beating heart inside her chest.

“It wasn’t your fault,” He breathed faintly after a few moments, not taking his eyes off her, afraid she would vanish if he did.

Her smile grew a little more and she nodded once before making a triangle with her fingers. Dipper froze for a few seconds before her hands collapsed upon the triangle form, mashing it into nonexistence.

He chuckled in spite of himself before his face grew grim again.

“I miss you.”

Mabel’s gentle smile faltered a little and she moved closer, opting to sit next to Dipper on his bed. He moved over for her, though he knew it was a little counterintuitive. She sat very still for a few moments before she moved her arms around her brother, in a feeless hug. Her brother leaned into her as much as he could to make it feel more real and he sniffed again.

“Happy birthday.”

Mabel’s smile lifted and she pressed a kiss to his temple. That time, Dipper swore he could feel it and that made him break down all over again, tears welling in his eyes and making the colours around him muddle. He collapsed on his back and gathered a few animals, hugging them as if he were hugging his sister. All the while, Mabel stayed by his side, her arm moving as if she were stroking his hair.

Eventually, pure exhaustion took over Dipper’s body and he fell asleep again, the animals held tightly against his heaving chest.

 _“Happy birthday, Dip Dop-“ a_ tinny voice hummed, the blue apparition starting to fade. “ _I’ll miss you, knucklehead.”_

When the boy awoke a few hours later, the blue apparition was gone, but he was still hugging the stuffed creatures as if his life depended on it. Like his conscious had summoned them, both Ford and Stan slowly entered the attic room, worried smiles painting their faces.

“I saw her,” Dipper said quietly, looking up at his uncles. They glanced at each other, their gazes softening, like they expected more fallout.

None came. Instead, Dipper stood up on wobbly legs and approached them. They both knelt down and Dipper practically threw himself into their arms, hugging them with every ounce of leftover energy he still had.

The two hugged him back with just as much strength, not enough to hurt the boy, but enough for him to know that they were there.

Somewhere beyond their sight, someone watched on, a bittersweet feeling overcoming her. She smiled faintly, knowing deep in her heart that it would all be okay and when the time came, all four of them would see each other again. She hoped, distantly, that it wasn’t any time soon. Her family still had lives to live.

And to her, that was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last time I'm going to write something relating to the death of any member of the Pines family. Frankly, it doesn't make me feel to nice and I'd rather just stick with stories that have good endings. That being said, I will still write Much Angst, but I don't have it in me to permanently kill any member.  
> Hope you enjoy nonetheless.  
> Requests are closed for now, but expect a happier fic in the next few months!!!


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